Twisted obsession
Episode One — The Girl Covered in Rain
The rain had a way of making the city forget.
It washed blood into gutters.
It erased footprints from concrete.
It buried screams beneath the sound of thunder.
Tonight, it did all three.
Seraphina Vale pulled her coat tighter as she hurried through the nearly empty streets, balancing a worn sketchbook beneath her arm. The museum had closed hours ago, but she’d stayed behind restoring a cracked nineteenth-century painting. She hadn’t noticed how late it had become until the security guard practically begged her to leave.
Now the streets felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
She checked her phone.
11:47 PM.
No signal.
“Perfect,” she muttered.
A sharp crash echoed from the alley beside her.
She froze.
Probably a stray cat.
Probably…
Another crash.
This one louder.
Followed by footsteps.
Fast.
Running.
A man burst out of the alley, his white shirt soaked with blood. His eyes locked onto hers for the briefest second.
“Run,” he whispered.
Before she could react—
Bang.
A gunshot shattered the silence.
The man stumbled forward and collapsed onto the pavement just a few feet away.
Seraphina couldn’t breathe.
Her legs refused to move.
A polished black shoe stepped from the darkness.
Then another.
Whoever it was never hurried.
He walked with terrifying patience.
The streetlight flickered.
A tall figure emerged, dressed in an immaculate black suit despite the storm. Rain slid from his broad shoulders as though even the weather feared touching him.
His face remained hidden beneath the shadow of an umbrella.
He looked at the body.
Then…
He looked at her.
Time stopped.
Seraphina’s heartbeat thundered in her ears.
She couldn’t see his expression.
She couldn’t see his eyes.
Yet somehow she felt… recognized.
As though he already knew exactly who she was.
The stranger spoke into a small earpiece.
“I found her.”
Her.
Not someone.
Her.
Every instinct screamed at Seraphina to run.
She turned and sprinted.
Her shoes splashed through puddles as thunder rolled overhead. She didn’t dare look back.
Left.
Right.
Another corner.
She could barely breathe.
The city blurred into streaks of light and rain until she ducked into an abandoned bookstore, slamming the door behind her.
Silence.
Only the sound of her ragged breathing.
“I’m imagining this,” she whispered to herself.
“I’m imagining all of this.”
Then she noticed it.
A single black envelope resting neatly on the dusty counter.
Her name was written across it in elegant silver ink.
Seraphina Vale.
Her stomach dropped.
With trembling fingers, she opened it.
Inside was a single card.
I’ve been waiting for you.
Nothing else.
No signature.
No explanation.
Just five words.
A cold breeze swept through the room.
The front door…
which she’d locked…
creaked open on its own.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Footsteps echoed across the wooden floor.
One.
Two.
Three.
She backed away until her shoulders struck a bookshelf.
A voice, deep and calm, broke the silence.
“I was beginning to think you’d never read the note.”
Seraphina’s breath caught.
A man stepped from the shadows, his tailored black suit untouched by panic, his presence commanding the room.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he looked directly into her eyes.
“You don’t remember me,” he said quietly.
“It won’t stay that way for long.”
Outside, lightning split the sky.
And somewhere in the darkness…
Someone else was watching.
To be continued…
